"Multiple inbounds. Switching to maximum refire." Without the charge up, the plasma shotgun was able to lay down a devastating hail of withering fire. Not even a Vorcha could regenerate from the white-hot heat of the weapon, and Many used his subroutines well to walk the fire, advancing slowly and presenting a clear target.

Though from this distance, the plasma blasts didn't do any real damage to the Blood Pack force ahead of the platform, Many-As-One nonetheless accomplished his goal of attracting attention back toward the rest of Team Five. Two of the vorcha began firing missiles at Many-As-One. One would pass wide, and the other was coming right at the Geth platform.

Soleimon Berserker wrote:

"Sol'Amon. Advancing to a forward assault position, I should be able to provide a crossfire with your team from here." He said with a small grin on his face, "I would'a let you know guys know I was gonna do this but that would've ruined my window."

Breathing evenly and watching the positions around him, Sol quickly thanked the Goddess and Ancestors that he'd thought to holster his Locust before making the run, the sub-machine gun was light but even that could have slowed him down an infinitesimal amount enough to not make it.

As the young Quarian ran, the missile that had missed Many-As-One came within a bare meter of striking him in the chest. From this distance though, the large group of Blood Pack was only now beginning to appear in the distance of the gloom, and they didn't appear to have any weapons other than missiles for long range.

Even so, his directed sprint had attracted more attention from the group, as some of the varren that weren't menacing Iona began to run toward the rest of Team Five - and toward Soleimon and Many-As-One in particular.

Sabre72 wrote:

Junko keyed her radio, "Look to the sky gents, am over here!" She was going to get the attention of everyone.

With that said, Junko charge upwards into a 45° angle toward Iona and team 5's general area, while in mid air and falling Junko found some cover she could attempt to get to. She unleashed another 45° angle charge with a roar as she bioticly tossed herself to the rocky ash layered ground.

She landed with a small thud and roll back onto her feet, she then ran to suitable cover she found while in the air, upon arriving she fell prone into cover, drained from that sudden burst of exertion she applied, however it was only a dent in her endurance.

Junko's surprising exit had the negative side-effect of confirming to the three vorcha and one krogan hunting for her that she was, in fact, there.

The positive side-effect was that the abruptness of her action didn't do anything to help their aim, though she did have to charge through a gout of flame as she went upward, which scorched her armor somewhat.

The group of four after Junko began to run, now that they had finally spotted their prey.

It may have been Junko's imagination, but she thought she heard a muffled explosion from within the facility, shaking the building slightly.

Agent Fisher wrote:

Maraka watched the Vorcha crumble, the hiss of steam and a blinking indicator flashed in his helmet, showing the heat sink was overheating. But that would have to wait as he saw the rocket screaming towards him. His arm came up, a barrier shimmering into place just as the rocket impacted. The warhead detonated, sending out smoke and shrapnel. His barrier, shields and armor did their jobs, leaving Maraka with nothing more than a bad headache and fresh dings in his armor. The Turian biotic refocused his attention on his rifle, the heat sink dropping out, a new one slapped in.

He moved forward, tapping Lysander on the shoulder. "Advancing!" He called out, rifle at the low ready, sharp turian eyes scanning for targets.

A turian's vision was highly acute, comparable to a Terran raptor. He was barely able to make out shapes in the gloom of the volcanic atmosphere from this distance, though he was able to see the dull glowing blue flash of Iona using a biotic ability.

Maraka would need to get closer to shoot with any degree of accuracy, or use any of his abilities.

frigidmagi wrote:

Lysander dove behind a swallow rise of ground seeking cover. He pulled out his omni-tool and got to work.

"Adepts, close and unload on them. Everyone one else hit 'em hard we need to waste these assholes." He orders. He hit in the last command on his omni-tool, readying an overload command. He moved ahead to the next piece of scanty cover. One of these days he would have to get his own moving wall or something.

Even at this distance, once a target had been outlined, a competent tech could begin to use certain tricks on them. In this case, a krogan in the middle of roaring with exultation at having almost cornered the asari stopped, as his shield generator suddenly shorted out, his kinetic barrier dropping instantly.

White Haven wrote:

The ground was getting dubiously close again. Landing facing the same direction as her trajectory would be workable, but the twisting motion that brought the Blood Pack forces into view made that less than likely. The solution, of course, mirrored the second half of the other biotic's 'jump,' albeit without the dramatic, flashy explosions of force on each end. She blurred into motion again, streaking forwards and down until her booted feet made contact with the ground again. Without hesitation, she tucked into a tight roll, absorbing the force of her meteoric plunge across her body and the kinetic barriers still stubbornly clinging around her battered armour.

Though Iona took quite a few hits as she moved, a part of her mind watching her shields steadily being whittled away, she nonetheless escaped the deathtrap that the Blood Pack group was attempting to lock her into. The varren seemed angry at having been cheated of their prey, and raised howls as they continued to give chase.

The vorcha began to spread out, giving one another better angles of fire at Iona. The asari was relatively lucky, though - only one of the missiles struck her shields, which were able to take most of the blast before failing.

Finally though, Iona could begin to make out advance elements of the rest of Team Five, steadily and quickly approaching her location.

General Havoc wrote:

And so, when the Quarian broke cover and raced ahead, away from the rest of the group, exposing himself to fire to reach a distant point of cover well beyond any friendly support, Shaddai did not swear, nor did any of its constituent programs. But there was a moment or two where the programs that comprised it might well have wanted to.

Instead though, Shaddai acted.

The blue-painted Geth infiltrator rose from his distant cover to a standing position. For a tiny second, the Geth raised its Widow anti-materiel rifle to its shoulder, an act which would have broken the collarbone or equivalent of any living being save a Krogan. Instead it fired a round capable of penetrating two inches of mass-compacted armor straight at the helmet of one of the flamethrowing Vorcha attempting to incinerate the friendly biotic. But without stopping to ascertain the effect of this round, Shaddai instead began to run.

There was nothing robotic about Shaddai running. The basic Quarian design had been modeled, of course, after themselves, and improvements made by the Violator conclave over the centuries had been noted and copied and in a few cases improved on by the Loyalists. Infiltrator protoforms moved with speed and even grace, traversing the broken ground effortlessly at maximum velocity, its eye flicking from point to threat point, sensors monitoring changes in wind speed, enemy positioning, and overall flow of the battle. Though Shaddai could not receive the information being psychically broadcast to the organic members of the team, its proximity radar, 3D-imaging software, and sensory-triangulation algorithms, manned as ever by dozens of efficient Geth programs, gave it very near to the same level of information. Yet whatever threats Shaddai uncovered, it moved regardless, for a higher priority was in play, and not one of the programs aboard would question that.

Shaddai's target was a wrecked and burnt-out armored vehicle, the very same one that the Quarian had abandoned to push on ahead. And as it ran at top speed, holding its sniper rifle in one hand, with its other hand, it drew a large pistol from its side. Without breaking stride, Shaddai aimed the pistol forward, at the cover it was approaching, and fired a dozen rounds with one hand. The shots struck home, hitting points identified as 'weak' by a quick structural analysis carried out in a quarter of a second by two thousand Geth. Running at high speed as it was, only nine of the shots struck home at their designated targets, of which six did not penetrate the cover, and three did. But three was enough. One would have been.

Fifteen feet from cover, Shaddai's body threw itself down, its feet gripping at the top layer of the soil, carving a furrow in the dirt as the charging Geth slid in unconscious imitation of a human baseball player, straight into its chosen cover. Yet this was not enough. As Shaddai slid, it holstered its pistol, and brought its rifle around with both arms, positioning it carefully. As the slide came to a stop, directly behind the hulking vehicle, Shaddai extended the rifle ever so slightly, sliding the end of the barrel directly into one of the holes that it had just shot through the imposing armored vehicle.

There was half a second allocated to adjusting body positioning and weapon trajectory, and then Shaddai fired.

The shot was aimed at the Blood Packer it had identified as most likely to spot and/or shoot at the Quarian. From the perspective of the target, it would be as though the long-dead vehicle had spontaneously begun flinging parts of itself at him, rendering return fire all-but pointless. Hopefully it would also give the Quarian time to get into something approximating cover.

The first round of the Widow went wide, striking a cargo container very close to the vorcha. The second round of Shaddai's Widow, on the other hand, went true - one of the two vorcha who had begun firing rockets at the approaching elements of Team Five suddenly stopped aiming, as his head was very suddenly missing, before collapsing drunkenly to the ground.

It was only at this point that the rest of the Blood Pack group had begun to realize that they were no longer hunting - they were prey.

One of the krogans roared, and the others took up the call, right before they all began to run at the advance elements of Team Five, shotguns at the ready. The vorcha scampered after them, firing off missiles as they darted from cover to cover.

The varren, on the other hand, had all stopped, and seemed to be listening, even as the vorcha and krogan seemed intent only on Team Five.

Just a moment later, a mass of varren came running out of the facility. They didn't howl, they didn't bark, they didn't make any noise at all except pants for breath and the steady drumbeats of their paws hitting the ground.

They didn't run toward the rest of Team Five, they didn't run toward the shuttles, and they didn't run toward the rest of the Blood Pack. They instead made a beeline for the far hills, only barely visible in the distance through the volcanic haze.

The varren present outside the facility seemed to silently confer, and then left the rest of the Blood Pack group at a run, following their brethren away from the battle, the facility, and apparently everything else.

_________________"Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, make sure that you are not, in fact, just surrounded by assholes."

- William Gibson

Josh wrote:

What? There's nothing weird about having a pet housefly. He smuggles cigarettes for me.

Taking a rocket to the chest without Krogan regeneration or heavy armor was not something Sol wanted to attempt, he'd chosen not to even cover himself with a Barrier in order to hide his biotics.

'Keelah that was close.'

Diving over the side of the barrier he'd chosen for cover, Sol'Amon glanced back the way he'd come, his breath hitching a bit as he saw the small crater from the missile that had barely missed him. Pulling his Locust from his back at the sound of baying varren, the Quarian quickly peeked out over the top of the debris barrier that was standing between him and the enemy positions. Needless to say that fighting Krogan and Vorcha with a pack of the fish-dogs coming around his flank wasn't a very appealing prospect, however just as he was about to open fire on the beasts they stopped and turned to dash after a large group of the creatures running out into the wilderness.

'Well that's.....odd? I better tell the others about this.'

Raising a hand to the side of his helmet, Sol quickly tapped into the team comm station, his lightly accented voice clearly puzzled as he spoke, "Sol'Amon here, I just caught sight of a large pack of Varren i'm assuming just exited the research facility, and they seem to be running for the hills....literally. Recon units do you have any idea what's going on in there?"

Popping up out of cover once more, the Quarian allowed his eyes to narrow as he took aim and fired his sub-machine gun, his initial shower of mass effect propelled bullets were meant more to cause the advancing enemy force to slow down and duck back into cover more than to strike. However he quickly changed that by directing the shower into a precise stream aimed directly at one of the rocket toting Vorcha.

Dropping back into cover, the black and green clad Vanguard contemplated unleashing his biotics soon, but quickly shelved the thought as he tabbed the team comm once more. Better to have something set to the side as a surprise instead of showing all his cards at once.

"Sol again, I got sightings of multiple enemy units advancing on our position. I'll hold here and try to keep'em back while you all move up, we gotta get to Ninja Team fast, judging by the light show coming from over there they're in danger of getting boxed in if we don't hurry." He said quickly, a hint of a growl lacing his voice.

Ok. deep breath. have to get to the team. Should try to lure my hunters to the main blood pack force. Have to find cover that protects me from the north and the west. Id rather not become bullet bait.

Four thoughts in a flash of a second.

Junko checks her shield level out of habit and frowns,"shields almost out great, guess I better buy time to get them recharged." With that she drops a barrier around herself for the first time in the fight ,"this should help."She takes a step forward, launches herself south close to some cover, which hinders her northern hunters from shooting her. Junko eyes light up after she finds her ideal west to north cover, she peaks around her cover just enuogh and yells, "Hey Pea brains! Am over here, try and catch up!"

Junko comm came to life with what seemed to be sol's voice

Soleimon Berserker wrote:

'.'Recon units do you have any idea what's going on in there?"

Junko answered quickly, "explosion heard from within facility, may be linked to varren running.deep breath then a slight grunt, "have to go, am bringing 4 blood pack with me east side."

she looked back to cover that she found ideal, it consists of a few sturdy looking cargo crates side by side in a row facing south, Hmmm if I just do.... she charges at the closest crate. this....then, she vaults over the crate to get into cover. Junko smiles , perfect north to west cover, she tells herself.

Last edited by Sabre72 on Wed Dec 28, 2011 3:24 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Iona wasn't exactly in a great position to spot the sudden departure of the varren pack pursuing her. Around that time, in fact, she was spinning wildly around a tight axis, bleeding excess kinetic energy into the ground in a manner sure to give her some interesting bruises later. Accordingly, she rolled to her feet and spun in place, one hand outstretched to do something unpleasant to the...varren...who...were...gone?

Well, that was unexpected.

With her shields shredded and her armour battered, however, the reprieve was welcome. For that matter, such a fast-paced use of high-powered biotics had left the asari herself in ned of a little recovery as well. She began slipping away from her controlled-crash site, moving laterally with reference to the main Blood Pack force as her stealth systems settled more firmly into place once more. Time to watch, time to recover, time to find an opening.

"Iona," she keyed into the team's tactical network, "I've been a touch distracted," her lips quirked inside her helmet at the understatement of the day even as her eyes flicked over the swarm of departing varren, "but that seems to be substantially more varren than the Blood Pack took into that base. Remind me to thank Sheppard for the excellent quality of our pre-drop intelligence."

A tone of wry humour robbed her words of any venom they might have carried, more a stress-reliever than anything malicious.

_________________

Chronological Incontinence: Time warps around the poster. The thread topic winks out of existence and reappears in 1d10 posts.

Out of Context Theatre, this week starring xthetenth-'You know me. You know that if there was a way to become Monitor Shiva, I would.'

For his part, Sidonis had readied himself the instant he had seen the other Blood Pack in the distance. Following Shaddai's lead, he sprinted toward a burnt-out Mako, and dove behind it for cover before setting up his sniper rifle to start sending rounds downrange. His first target was one of the incoming krogan, aiming a three-round burst from his Viper at the krogan's skull.

As for Sings-to-the-Stars, though he seemed uncomfortable at facing enemies he couldn't "feel" was nonetheless adding his own factor into the battle, creating a Singularity directly in the path of the charging krogan - which they'd now have to stop and move around, or get trapped within.

_________________"Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, make sure that you are not, in fact, just surrounded by assholes."

- William Gibson

Josh wrote:

What? There's nothing weird about having a pet housefly. He smuggles cigarettes for me.

Tallos sighted in on the krogan stupid or angry enough to get caught in the singularity and opened fire upon them, tearing through their shields and armor. "Whatever is making them run, it's good news for us."

Lysander rolled away from Maraka without getting up. In an age where grenades and rockets were tossed around like 2 for a penny candy, one should never be close enough to touch his squad mates in a wide open plain. He heard the chatter on the radio, gonna have to work on that. Everyone was to chatty, it didn't help that they didn't have a basic code. He fired his rifle at a Krogan as he came to a stop and pitched himself forward running for a few bare seconds before flopping down again. Radio ops could wait until after they weren't being shot at, write the AAR, after the action. Still an explosion, time to move.

"Iona, can you recon the facility? Find out what that explosion was? Junko veer towards our left flank if you can. Those of you on the left make sure you don't shot Junko, get the 4 Krogan. Everyone else hammer the BloodPact as hard as you can, dust these guys." He said and opened fire. They needed to end this fight fast and find out what the fuck just happened.

_________________"it takes two sides to end a war but only one to start one. And those who do not have swords may still die upon them." Tolken

The rocket coming directly at Many was tracked. The many runtimes could easily divide time down to have plenty of time. If only it's servomotors were up to moving at such a pace. With no time for reactions, he simply leaned in, bracing. The impact was brutal, the explosion worse. The Geth was tossed off it's feet and onto it's back. The sheer durability of his chassis had saved it from the worst, but it was clearly damaged.

There was a prevailing theory among certain elements of the geth aboard Shaddai that one of the reasons that the Quarians had nearly met extinction at the hands of their own creations was that there was an element of recklessness in Quarian culture that was both prevalent and pervasive, even into modern times. As a collective, Shaddai had never placed this theory to a full vote, as it had not been relevant previously.

Already today, nine different programs had tabled motions to place the issue to a vote once this engagement was concluded.

The Quarian was still far ahead, firing into a fresh group of enemy with a submachinegun, bereft of both support and backup and apparently unconcerned with that fact. Shaddai's evaluation was slightly different, in the same way that a Krogan battlemaster was slightly different than a piece of cheese. Other members of the team had moved up to Shaddai's position already, advancing the front of battle towards the enemy. It was time for Shaddai to do the same.

The Geth Infiltrator aimed one shot at one of the rocket-carriers, largely just to force it to keep its head down, and then broke cover, vaulting the burnt-out Mako in one swift motion and running at maximum speed towards the Quarian's cover. Geth weren't exactly cheetahs in this regard, but they could move at admirable rates of speed when pressed to. As best it could, the protoform wove as it ran, trying to throw off any counter-fire that might be coming its way, trusting to the ballistic shields to take care of the rest.

Finally, Shaddai slid into cover right beside the Quarian biotic, taking only the briefest instant to recover balance, before sliding the sniper rifle out onto a firing position and taking aim towards the Krogans and Vorcha that threatened the position.

"We... strongly recommend against further advances at this time," said Shaddai as it took aim.

_________________Gaze upon my works, ye mighty, and despair...

Havoc: "So basically if you side against him, he summons Cthulu."Hotfoot: "Yes, which is reasonable."

Mikhail watched the Geth tumble from the rocket impact. Fuck me like a goat, he thought. Whatever the hell they were using to simulate rocket strikes had to fucking hurt. The lesson was, of course, don't get hit. The sniper lined up his shot, took it and then another in quick succession and then was back down low, moving to a different firing position.

_________________It's not that I'm unforgiving, it's that most of the people who wrong me are unrepentant assholes.

The result of all of Team Five opening fire at once with their various weapons was that the rather impressive group of Blood Pack members, appearing hardened and battle-tested, were decimated by the assault. Left without the varren as combat support, they had no real defense or retaliation prepared against such a combined attack.

Several of Team Five's shields had received a beating, and Many-As-One's armor was now smoking - but they were up and alive, and the large mass of krogan and vorcha were not, either felled by bursts of assault rifles, submachine guns, or sniper rifles.

The resulting silence was eerie, as the team heard the faint musing of the low-lying wind over the volcanic landscape. Just then, a single vorcha ran out of the compromised facility. It had no weapon in hand, and seemed to be running for its life. Its strides were long and true, eating up the landscape as it ran for the low-lying hills in the distance.

A few loud, mechanical stomps came increasingly closer, before a missile flew out of the entrance, burning its way across the landscape - and striking the vorcha true in the back, resulting in a large explosion. Equally loud mechanical stomps echoed more and more faintly back into the facility, accompanied by what sounded like digitized screaming.

_________________"Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, make sure that you are not, in fact, just surrounded by assholes."

- William Gibson

Josh wrote:

What? There's nothing weird about having a pet housefly. He smuggles cigarettes for me.

Lysander nodded to Junko, his mind mostly on what he just saw. Simple research station his ass. This was FUBAR. He had two choices, scream like a peeled weasel and try to bug out (that... thing just ripped apart a Blood Pact squad to the point of them running for their damn lives!) or push in and try to get intel. Great, fucking great.

"Squad, rally up, give me a report on your ammo and effectiveness. Tallos, Shaddi, Jager get weapons on the entrance, just in case that... whatever pokes out and starts lobbing more rockets." First step, get the intel on the squad. Then set up to move in.

_________________"it takes two sides to end a war but only one to start one. And those who do not have swords may still die upon them." Tolken

"Moving to cover the entrance," replied Jager as he switched in a mag of phase rounds. A lousy choice against krogan or vorcha, but if the big stompy thing had shields, it was the only thing that would do. "Full combat effectiveness, almost full ammo load."

_________________It's not that I'm unforgiving, it's that most of the people who wrong me are unrepentant assholes.

Looking up from his position over one of the downed Krogan, Sol's voice was perfectly calm as he fired a burst of his submachine gun at the Blood Pack merc's skull for the proverbial double-tap. Nodding at the human's question, the young Quarian's eyes quickly did a quick check of his ammo mid sentence.

"Submachine gun ammo is good, if a little depleted. Pistol mags are full..." Deciding enough was enough, the former hitman shrugged before continuing with nonchalance. "....Biotics are at optimum levels."

Staring back down at the downed Krogan, looking for any signs of a twitch he sighed before backing away, though he unconsciously kept the corpses of both Krogan and Vorcha in sight and away from his blind spots. If his years on Omega had taught him one thing, it was the fact that even if you thought either race was dead, never put it past either of them to keep on kicking, even with a bullet in their head. One time was more than enough to learn that a Krogan in blood rage coming at you with a bullet lodged in his skull was not just a myth.

What remained of the mercenaries were fleeing in panic under fire from rocket-propelled explosives, and sounds of heavy machinery were coming from within the facility. The combination of these facts elicited six hundred and thirteen different explanations from the think-tank committee that Shaddai hastily assembled to study the matter, five hundred and thirty-eight of which they evaluated as variations on a theme similar enough to be considered one working theory for the purposes of the tactical situation. The committee then divided into ten working subgroups to suggest procedures, four of which came to one solution, three another, and the last two their own individual suggestions. Three rounds of procedural voting revealed deadlock, until the motion was tabled to reduce the considered actions to the two most well-supported options. There followed a debate between two working subgroups, and a final vote that narrowly resulted in a majority decision.

"Ammunition reserves remain adequate," said Shaddai into its transmitter. "Our protoform is presently undamaged, and defensive systems are operating above 95% peak efficiency. We are attempting to ascertain additional data for intelligence analysis."

Holding its sniper rifle steady, Shaddai proceeded to begin scanning the local area for active wireless networks, operating in conjunction with the working theory he had most recently passed.

_________________Gaze upon my works, ye mighty, and despair...

Havoc: "So basically if you side against him, he summons Cthulu."Hotfoot: "Yes, which is reasonable."

Maraka closed the distance with the squad, his long turian legs easily propelling him over the distance. He worked as he moved, removing the half spent heat sink and placing it into a side pouch. He retrieved a fresh sink and loaded it, making sure his pistol was set as well.

"I'm green." He said to the human marine, weapon pointed towards the hole, waiting for the next stage of the plan to begin.

_________________Morpheus:I remember that I am here not because of the path that lies before me but because of the path that lies behind me.

"My armour's seen better days, but shields are back up to power. Ammunition supplies are fine." Beyond fine, I haven't fired a shot

Iona picked herself up from the depression she'd bellied down in, scanning in a quick circle to doublecheck the recon reports circulating through the tacnet. Specifically, that she wasn't surrounded by Blood Pack any longer. When this proved to be true, she murmured into the throat mic again, "Can I get a stealth field check from anyone with eyes on me?" The message was accompanied by a locator pulse on the squad tactical network, so that, briefly, people would know where to look. "My armour took a beating, and I can't exactly give myself a visual once-over. If everything's green, I'll see about getting a look inside the compound."

_________________

Chronological Incontinence: Time warps around the poster. The thread topic winks out of existence and reappears in 1d10 posts.

Out of Context Theatre, this week starring xthetenth-'You know me. You know that if there was a way to become Monitor Shiva, I would.'

"My armour's seen better days, but shields are back up to power. Ammunition supplies are fine." Beyond fine, I haven't fired a shot

Iona picked herself up from the depression she'd bellied down in, scanning in a quick circle to doublecheck the recon reports circulating through the tacnet. Specifically, that she wasn't surrounded by Blood Pack any longer. When this proved to be true, she murmured into the throat mic again, "Can I get a stealth field check from anyone with eyes on me?" The message was accompanied by a locator pulse on the squad tactical network, so that, briefly, people would know where to look. "My armour took a beating, and I can't exactly give myself a visual once-over. If everything's green, I'll see about getting a look inside the compound."

The rest of Team Five cautiously moved onward to the base, spreading out to cover the entrance with multiple angles of fire. For the moment, there was no other sign of life or movement within the base.

Shaddai attempted to scan for wireless networks available, and the protoform found two, both of which appeared to be within the facility itself.

The first appeared to sufferer from random breaks and interference, and was encrypted, but was active. The second wireless network was significantly more strange; it also was encrypted, but its variables, radius, and even signal strength were varying in inexplicable ways.

As for the rest of the Team, they spotted no movement on their scopes, and saw nothing else amiss - leaving the ensuing silence even more unnatural.

_________________"Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, make sure that you are not, in fact, just surrounded by assholes."

- William Gibson

Josh wrote:

What? There's nothing weird about having a pet housefly. He smuggles cigarettes for me.

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